Some Infinities
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: 50 nonlinear moments between Clarke and Lexa. Mostly fluff, with the occasional touch angst.:: 4. As Clarke watches Lexa sleep, she's grateful to have something to hold onto during such such troubling times.
1. Flowers

_Written for the Prompt Collection Challenge from the 100 Fanfiction Challenges (Come join us! Link is on my profile)_

* * *

"Do you ever get tired of it?" Clarke asks, her fingers working skilfully at the flower stems, delicately tying them together.

"It?"

Clarke doesn't look up. Her eyes are focused on the task at hand. "What you do. Heda, Commander, all of it," she clarifies.

"Do you get tired of drawing?" Lexa counters.

"That's not exactly the same thing."

Lexa smirks, leaning back, her head resting against the tree. "Isn't it? You've been drawing your whole life. I've been training all of mine," she reasons.

Clarke shakes her head as she adds another flower. "I draw because I enjoy it. I wasn't forced into it when I was a child."

Lexa shrugs. "And maybe I enjoy it. Maybe I learned to love fighting when I was a kid. Not everyone has the same hobby," she says.

Again, Clarke shakes her head. Lexa rolls her eyes. Clarke can be so stubborn, so set in her ways. Even now, she doesn't seem to realize that life on the ground is not the same as life in the sky. Once, Lexa had found the clash of cultures annoying, but now she can't help but to think of it as endearing.

"And what would I do instead?" Lexa asks.

"What everyone else. Not everyone is a warrior or a leader."

Lexa laughs. She tries to imagine a different life, a carefree life in the fields, harvesting crops. A life tending to the sick, heralded as a miracle worker. But those things have never been an option, not for a Nightblood.

"If things were different, maybe. But my circumstances weren't exactly normal," Lexa says softly. "And yes, if I'm honest, I do get tired of it. My position cost me Costia. Even in times of peace, I'm constantly reminded that there are those who wish to see me fall. But I cannot change things, Clarke. I am the Commander. This is my life."

Clarke finishes her work, the chain of flowers now a perfect circle. She places the little crown on Lexa's head with a smile. Lexa touches a finger to the crown of flowers with a laugh.

"The great Wanheda, weaver of flowers," she teases.

"The great Heda, wearer of flowers," Clarke laughs, pulling her close and resting her head on Lexa's shoulder.

Lexa absently strokes Clarke's hair, wondering. If things had been different, if she hadn't been born a Nightblood, would their paths have still crossed? It seems doubtful. No other Commander would have ever humored Clarke the way Lexa had. Skaikru would have been slaughtered long before Finn had ever massacred the village.

Lexa closes her eyes. She does not lead a pretty love. There is nothing beautiful about bloodshed. But somehow beauty has still found its way into her life, and Lexa realizes that, even if she had the chance, she wouldn't change a thing.


	2. Medicine

_Written for the Prompt Collection Challenge on the 100 Fanfiction Challenges (Join us! Link on profile)_

* * *

"You're hurt!"

"I'm fine," Clarke insists, warmth flushing her cheeks. "It's nothing."

But even as the words leave her mouth, a groan escapes her lips. She wishes that Lexa hadn't heard it. She's taken on wild animals before, always walking away with scratches and bruises. It's something she's been through countless times, but Lexa is too stubborn to let her deal with it alone.

Lexa's fingers trail gently over the gash across Clarke's thigh, carefully examining it. "It's not too deep," she says, opening her bag and digging through. "But we'll have to treat it, make sure it doesn't get infected."

Clarke wants to remind her that she knows this, that she's had to spend the first few months on the ground as a medic. But Lexa doesn't seem to be listening. She produces a vial of some sort of medicine Clarke has never seen before, a Grounder remedy of herbs.

"I can do it myself, Lexa. I'm not a child."

"Let me take care of you."

The words hit her with a strange force. It's been so long since anyone has offered. She's been held so high, forced to lead, to care for others, to sacrifice and stretch herself thin.

Clarke swallows dryly, nodding her consent. Lexa applies the medicine with cautious, delicate fingers, pausing only when Clarke hisses at the contact. "Did I hurt you?"

"It's nothing," Clarke assures her, closing her eyes.

Maybe she could get used to this in time. In truth, it feels nice to not have to carry all the burdens, to let go and be cared for.

Lexa finishes, tearing a strip from her shirt and bandaging the wound. "That's all I can do for now," she says. "When we return to Polis, I'll have the healers look you over."

She wraps an arm Clarke, pulling her close as she guides her along. "Wait. I almost forgot."

"Forgot what?"

In answer, Lexa presses a quick kiss to her lips, grinning as she pulls away. "Trikru healing aid," she says.

"You made that up!" Clarke laughs, staggering along beside her.

"If you want to be ignorant of our traditions, go ahead," Lexa says, a smile quirking the corners of her lips.

Clarke grins. "I might need more healing aid," she says. "My leg just hurts so bad."

"We'll never get back to Polis at this rate," Lexa says.

But still, she cups Clarke's face in her hands, kissing again and again until Clarke can barely remember that her leg hurts at all.


	3. Apology

_Written for the Prompt Collection Challenge (apology) and the Marathon Competition (effort)_

* * *

"I'm sorry."

The surprise in Clarke's eyes is almost painful. Lexa wonders what the other girl must think of her, if she believes the Commander is incapable of apology. "Do you mean it?"

Lexa sighs. She wishes Clarke would just accept the effort she's making without question. It would make things so much easier. "I'm sorry that I betrayed you, but I do not apologize for my choice. I made the right one for my people, and I would do it again if I had to."

She watches the flicker of hurt cross Clarke's face. It isn't fair. Her words should be enough.

Lexa wraps her fingers gently around Clarke's wrist, pulling her close. "I would never hurt you, Clarke. I… I care for you quite deeply," she whispers. I'm sorry for the burden you had to carry."

"But you're not really sorry. If you were, you would have been there when I had to make that choice," Clarke snaps, pulling away. "I have to live with the blood on my hands! Bellamy, too. And it could have been prevented if you had just kept your word!"

Lexa almost laughs. So few would speak to her so boldly. It's almost refreshing to be challenged. But she doesn't have time to enjoy the moment. She sees the fire in Clarke's eyes. It will take more effort to win her trust. Truthfully, Lexa isn't sure how to do it.

She takes Clarke by the wrist again. Why couldn't it be easier? A simple smile, a simple apology, everything is okay.

"I will not abandon you again," she whispers. "You are not Trikru, but you are still my people. I'm asking you to trust me."

"Trust you? You've done nothing to earn that. You want us to become one of your clans, and yet you left us to be slaughtered! Why should I trust you?"

With a groan, Lexa presses her lips to Clarke's. Her words may fail. She may not be able to twist her sincerity into the right things to say. But there is another way for her lips to speak the truth, a way that Clarke can understand that Lexa means her no further harm.

"You are my people, Klark kom Skaikru. You are mine."

And she can feel the other girl melt at her touch. Maybe her apology has reached her. Lexa supposes that only time will tell.


	4. Shadow

_For the Prompt Collection Challenge on the 100 Fanfiction Challenges (join us! Link is on my profile). Prompt: shadow_

* * *

Clarke props herself up on her elbow. She's given up any hopes of sleeping tonight. Her mind is far too cluttered for such a luxury.

Lexa sleeps peacefully beside her, shadows dancing across her skin. Clarke can't help but to smile to herself. It's so rare that Lexa looks like this, unbothered by the constant chaos around them.

For a moment, Clarke can almost believe that Lexa is just a normal girl. For a moment, she can forget about the uncertainty, the constant threat of war threatening to break out. When she's asleep, completely free of everything else in the world, Lexa is no longer Heda, and Clarke can imagine that they're just two normal lovers without a care in the world.

"You're staring," Lexa mumbles in sleep-heavy tones.

"I'm not."

Lexa peeks an eye open, a smirk on her lips. She rolls onto her side. "Not very polite to lie," she teases. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Clarke shrugs. She doesn't want to have to explain the things in her mind, the constant uncertainty. She wants to be normal again, to just be a girl in a new world without anything to do but survive.

Lexa wraps her arms around her, pulling Clarke close. Clarke closes her eyes for just a moment, amazed by how peaceful she feels at her lover's touch.

"You should be sleeping," Lexa murmurs, pressing a kiss to Clake's forehead.

"Too restless."

Lexa looks up at her, grinning. "I'm sure I can tire you out," she says before yawning. "At least, I could if I could actually wake up."

Clarke rests her hand on Lexa's chest, smiling. "Sleep, Heda," she says, presses a small kiss to Lexa's neck. "There will be plenty of time to tire me out later."

Within moments, Lexa's eyes close, and she returns to the land of dreams. Clarke doesn't follow. She just watches her sleep, grateful for something to hold onto during such a troubling time.


End file.
